Best Kings Poems
Rise Up
Rise up to the blessing of another day.
To all that awaits you this moment.
To all that will challenge you and enlighten you.
Rise up to the opportunity to live in your truth and appreciate the truth of others.
To make a difference and matter to those in your path and to those you never noticed.
Be awakened by the joys of opportunities both sought after and placed before you.
Rise up to the choices that you have the freedom to make and take delight in being the vessel to enforce them.
Embrace your beauty, your strength, and most importantly, your flaws.
Be courageous when faced with adversity and smile when you’ve conquered the impossible.
Rise up to your fears and shortcomings and face them with the belief that you are not the only one; you are never alone.
There is so much turmoil in the world today. Be that small ripple in the water that becomes the huge wave of hope and positive change.
Be that spark that ignites into a blaze of restoration.
Rise up to the responsibility of reminding our youth that they are royalty and should conduct themselves as such.
With the dignity and respect which is needed to be a part of resolutions and not part of our demise.
Although life has a way to often break us down, we must rise up to the realities of our destiny.
We cannot be broken. Our spirit cannot waiver. Our souls have been fortified with ancestry that embodied perseverance, power, and the will to praise God.
RISE UP KINGS
RISE UP QUEENS
We are backed by our foundation of greatness and all that we are facing in the world today is our foundation of inspiration and purpose.
We must be inspired every day to simply and deliberately RISE UP!
The rains had come and washed away the old world,
the thunder had banged its drum
with a weary warning ---
' I do not come oft, but I return and weep
and growl a lion's roar ' ---
I will for a brief moment be as a child
and fear again...
the cracks and booms rouse my guilt,
Telemachus would say the gods were going mad...
There is something 'neath the earnest
thunder-drums which bangs
something-wicked-this-way-comes ---
and fades,
gently rolling away like a sonic carpet
Its change I welcome,
and fear,
and wonder if I was afraid at all,
wonder what deathly grip may one day come ---
suddenly,
or love may guide me through its tumult,
and dark valleys,
with flowers blooming 'neath my faithful feet;
and though I was once afraid
like a boyhood fear ---
startled from my very boots,
I shall miss my old friend thunder,
who reminds I'm quite alive,
and survived I have,
his treacherous thunderclaps,
and his sneaky ways,
my great trickster
(Thunder!)
Immigrants why do you come?
Whether you are spiritual or mathematical etc. This is our Karma:
Isacc Newton’s 3rd Law
For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction—Sir Isaac Newton
Tact is the art of making a point without making an enemy—Sir Isaac Newton
I can calculate the motion of heavenly bodies but not the madness of people—Sir Isaac Newton
Dangerously nearing a very steep precipice –ran by the shadow in thy kings tarnished soul, he proceeds with his paper kingdom—I Am Anaya
Do not be fooled by the power
of the king, by the shadow he’s enveloped
Open your eyes to the shadow
He pokes, pricks, and stirs the fear inside
Drowning in remorse, regret, and sorrow till
nothing remains but the hatred
Hatred has the king for his paper kingdom
A tyrant evolves
Fragile like the house of cards
Tis but origami paper
meticulously folded
with patience,
is his castle
Immigrant why do you come?
Immigrant you must have dire reason
You’ll only find division, malice
and disfunction
So many dwell under a rock
blindly leading blind
Toward the precipice
Tis this charade! The king’s been tricked
As he parades his symbols
Dangerously close to the precipice
How do we choose
Who will vie for king?
Riddled by the law
not founded on solid ground
after all
The two dimensions
The jack-ass consistently
kicks the lion
discombobulating him
Heretical in families
misjudging the way of the world
Nothing ever resolved
In his paper kingdom
how should society work?
Whose ethical ideas?
Whose ideology?
Spectrum such as the left,
the centre or the right
There are things I won’t forget about my past.
Lessons, many strewn throughout my heart and soul.
Endless tears sometimes bleed, feel they’ll ever last.
Those tears pass by, and I know they’ve made me whole.
I’ve been blessed to know God wouldn’t leave me downcast.
His love and grace, bound to comfort and console.
Where He leads, I’ll follow, seeking His relief.
He restores my hope and peace, soothing my grief.
There are restless lures that try to dim my light,
Despite my worst fear, I have One who is brave.
For my soul, He isn’t scared to stand up and fight.
He’s the King who died for sinners He forgave.
Since I know Him as my Lord, my heart is right,
Oh, my, my, how I love that King who can save!
Reflected in each dawn are hints of His love.
He always stirs my heart with joy from above.
There is music He plays, love so like a song,
His gentle love feels like the sweetest embrace.
Where I’m downright weak, He makes me fully strong.
When I’m most humble, He tells me of His grace.
Knowing love like this will never lead you wrong.
I’m so eager to meet Jesus face-to-face.
When I leave this world, I know He will meet me.
I’m grateful for my Jesus of Galilee.
A Brothers White Production
Skipping through the tall dry grass
memories of childhood flood back
the summer of youth a distant cry
as mudlarks face an early sun
On my back in the grass, as I read
stories of kings and knights
wind caresses my hair, whispers
an almost forgotten song
Dragonflies circle above in the sky
mesmerised by their flight
I am transported far back in time
lost in these pages I now breathe
And I am a boy again, plastic helmet
cardboard sword; brave and strong
we run around fighting each other
and invisible low-life enemies
Dragons appear in front and rear
Swooping down breathing fire about
But they are no match for us
as we slay them one by one
Those days, where grass was our universe
where friendship lasted a lifetime
and we would forever stay young
-deep in our hearts we always will be-
***
August 16, 2017
Copyright © White Wolf and Darren White
1 Kings 19:11-13
11 The Lord said, “Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the Lord, for the Lord is about to pass by.Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. 12 After the earthquake came a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper. 13 When Elijah heard it, he pulled his cloak over his face and went out and stood at the mouth of the cave. (New International Version)
Think not that God must raise His voice
in order to be heard,
within the blast of sudden storms
He softly speaks His word.
In earthquake great, or mighty wind,
or through a roaring flame,
He lays His thoughts upon our hearts
that His mercies we may claim.
If that is so, then this is true,
He hears our every plea
and calms the waves of our despair
upon life's stormy sea.
It isn’t the big celebrations,
Enormous dinners or huge gifts.
Parties never rouse foundations,
Jamborees or festivals.
It isn’t the life-sized creations,
Who impress kings, rulers or monarchs.
It’s the little things, a gentle expression,
When hearts meet in the deserts,
When dreamers discover their profession,
When simple reaches into the heart,
Pulls out a feeling, an impression,
The beautiful that inspires the light.
It isn’t in the impressive,
When a life gets made –
It’s in the thoughts, so obsessive…
Which bring feelings we want to save!
I always had this fascination with the English language.
Ever since I learned to read and write,
it captivated my interest, beside my own native tongue;
Opening for me a whole new world different from my own -
A world of kingdoms, of princesses and princes, of queens and kings,
of knights in shining armor, of noblemen and the common man,
of many innumerable things.
A child who found such joy in a second language or third
would feel like a traitor to her own when deep nationalism
is rooted in her bones. It was not easy.
And yet the fascination remained – despite being inculcated
with heavy ideas on love for motherland and in the words of Rizal –
“Ang hindi magmahal sa sariling wika,
Ay higit pa ang amoy sa malansang isda”.*
To a child who secretly preferred reading in the foreign tongue,
These words were damning. So much so that in my mind
there was always an ongoing war while growing up
with the king’s language and Rizal.
Looking back, mastering both languages would have been a lot easier
had somebody told me: “Go ahead, do what makes you happy,
as long as you do not forget your identity.
Be proud of the color of your skin.
You can be unique and world class at the same time,
there is no need to feel guilt, find your own rhyme.”
And so today, I tell the youth who have their own native tongue:
Enjoy the journey, but do not forget you are a child of your land
while you discover many things, using the language of kings.
Dr. Jose Rizal – Philippine National Hero, who ironically have mastered different languages including Greek, Latin, Hebrew ,Sanskrit, German, French, Italian among others, aside from Spanish and the now commonly used English language
* "Anyone who does not love his own language
is worse than the smell of a rotting fish."
26 July 2015
The Doesn't Fit Contest
Sponsor: Carol Eastman
River
Bed of water
Meandering in dreams
filled with Egyptian memories
The Nile
Come sit with me lovey
I’m excited to see
The clouds dancing high
In the deep blue sea
We’ll make dandelion rings
And weave clover blossom
Make bracelets of violets
Now don’t we look awesome
We’ll take our tea party under the willow
While the branches sway
To the music in our smiles
Our pinkies up in the most genteel style
As the sun beams hotter
We’ll make castles of sand
Where lady bug princesses
Marry grasshopper kings
But she never stays long enough
To find her a ring
Now let us eat supper
From our petunia plates
Honeysuckle nectar
The fare is first rate
Before we head for home
Let’s stroll past the creek
Create boats from milk pods
Now passengers we seek
Ahhh the princess
Back to us she did fly
And since she’s not scared
We put her inside
She sailed away
To a distant shore
Where her king waits
Forevermore
OF AN EBONY HUED MID-SUMMER NIGHT DREAM
(Apropos of We Kings, Queens, and The Fiery Furnace)
Indeed, this is a day the Lord has made:-
Considering last night’s revelation dreaming,
Waking up into this day the Lord has made,
I must enjoy and be glad for being still vertical.
Although “The Great Dream” may have been deferred,
Indeed, it has not been forgotten and deterred.
Oh, they may have murdered its dreamer, but
His and our liberation dream is immortal:-
Looking out over the horizon of our challenged life,
It is realized that we Exodus people have come a long way;
Survivors of the blood-stained shadows of horrific death:-
And we have come this far on the sojourn by faith.
Yes, we have come this far by an inherent faith—continuing
To maintain and sustain us in the present perils of our lives:-
And as African-Americans, surviving in this deemed “promise land”,
We’ve had and continue to have a special kind of relationship with God.
During our living experiences here during and after debilitating slavery,
We’ve seen, heard, felt, and responded to the Word of God in ways that
Are unique to us as an African people of God; for indeed, as chosen ones,
We’ve always been able to sing and praise God in truth and in holy spirits.
Reflecting on the truth of ourstory, it is realized that we are of a people
Whom many would have expected to have stopped singing and praying
A long time ago; yet, from generation to generation, we’ve just kept on
Singing and praising and trusting in the love of God and His redemption.
Indeed, sacred revelations continue to bring us from extermination
To exaltation, from degradation of dignity, from nobody to somebody;
With wide wondering eyes on the prize, we continue to sojourn onward
For our eyes have seen His glory as we have continued marching in His truth.
Indeed, we not only believe but know that in the savior’s favor
Life is and while our perils may endure here a little while longer,
We know that a liberating joyful stay here on earth is on the horizon
Promised by that very present help to those who live in good trouble;
Thus, let us not be exhausted nor deterred by the ghost tyranny
But with undying faith and spiritual strength, let us victoriously
Demonstrate that we are not of the children of Sisyphus’ fate;
But living reflections of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego:-
....................................................
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10/24/2018
Tell me your reasons and I shall tell you mine; never ceasing stories, but!?
Sheltered as a child and kept from the world, to soothe anothers scars....
Crippled through time these lives; life, psychologically mauled in maimed
Precipitations blades, leading the way while as carving stones of gray's
Jetison retro metros hand over fist in, contemporaries fit; this ice age rain?!
Tears pouring from blood red clouds these pools of pain to walk their plank....
Pirates of the Caribbean playing cowboys and indians again; falling stars
Upon terrestrials planes, with their prehistoric stones shaped like guns and bows
Taking aim amid the night of celestial sorrows from whence, they came!?
Ancients heavenly spirit now gathering the winds atop times turbulent waters
Of crimsons crashing unto the carnelian reef of what was; hearts that bled
In yesteryears fears like icicles piercing their eyes, to shatter loves dreams....
Tell me your reasons divination and I shall tell you mine; this soothing sea
Menhir's painted carmine whispers from beyound the mystic, torn veil?!
Angels dusting bejeweled crowns as passage beckons; this beacon
Calling unto the once lost children of light, tis time to come home....
Put away the guns and arrows and swords and bows; tears, upon fading shores ~
********************************************************************
....“Kings & Queens II” *
Queens are all over, and there are festivals, parades, banners and stuff.
I wanted to be Corn Queen once, but they chose a girl from Council Bluff.
Our phenomenal state fairs have a bunch of pageants galore.
We watch these winners parade in with titles, banners, and more.
Miss Atom was fine, looked great in her huge science lab.
Everyone was glad she got it, for she had the gift of gab.
Ms. Plastic Surgery had lips that kept falling off,
So her title was given to Miss Whopping Cough.
The men have their own competitions, of course.
Some bring their own cow, their llama or horse.
Mr. Cowboy for the West part of the state,
Was given a chilly reception, being six minutes late.
Stripped of his title, it pleased his first runner up.
Who had also won Mr. Lassie and Mr. Buttercup.
Mr. Elf on the Shelf was irritated ‘because he thought he had it.
Mr. Emergency laughed, for he was named Mr. Bad It.
Mrs. Hostess Snowball wore snowballs strategically placed,
And Mrs. Not—Ever-Ready wore a corny veil ribboned with lace.
Queens and Kings, running around, winning titles fast and furiously.
To put on their resume’s or job applications? I am guessing curiously.
Not being in a pageant, myself, I truly do not understand.
But there are contests for queens and kings all over our land.
Showing off titles, and banners and stuff.
Here is Mrs. Wart Hog cemetery. Her hide is tough!
On Wicked Kings And Time Destroyed Dragons
O foolish king, sitting on hollow throne
thy lost kingdom so dark, thee sits alone.
Embrace thy greed, measured in stolen gold
destroying people with your lies so bold.
O foul villain, in false pride laboring
greater evil thy own destruction brings.
Thy henchman, voices rarely taboring
singing false praise to their cowardly king.
O hideous dragon, thee shall find death
power will be taken from fangs and claws.
Cry , when fire is removed from thy breath
and silky-smooth is made thy wicked paws.
In thy deserved death, innocence is spared
scales of justice, the two hast been compared!
R.J. Lindley,
April 24th, 1973
SONNET, (On justice being delivered to tyrants and dragons)